Computing

I am smothered by a horde of females.
The succubi are infatuated with me.
They come at me orgiastically
and unite with me blood to blood.
Sapped, I lose my senses and collapse semi-conscious.

“Let’s ready a cauldron
half full with pungent oil
over a furnace stoked by a hundred firewood trunks,”
A drone of voices I hear.
“Yes, it’s all now ready.
The boiling bubbles are spluttering
and fumes are shooting up
driving black holes into the dark sky,”
Confirms a wave of their friends.

“Now let us hurl this devil
into the burning oil,”
Fumes a horde.
“Let him suffer,
let him cry out in agony,
let his skin peel off,
let the gore from under mix and curdle
with the blood from his eyes and from his entrails,”
Curses a cloud of their ilk.

“He has turned into invisible ash;
has simply vanished into his stanching soul,”
Announce the undertakers.
“Let’s not let his bloody soul away.
We’ll enchain it and force it into a new body
and suck and roast him for a thousand lives,”
Pronounced is the verdict.

“You stalked us, hounded us,
sought us out in every nook,
in every cranny
when we the simple frail female folk
were alive and kicking,”
A drove bares my criminal past.
“Mercilessly you batted us,
you battered us;
and you swatted us in millions to death.
Nothing less than bride-burning on a mass scale!
Curse you! Damn you!
You massacred us the petite ones
reckless wanton cruel heartless.
It was ghastly genocide,”
Blasts out a swarm.

“But you know fellows
you the succubi were haunting me
were sucking my blood
were killing my comfort
and were destroying my sleep.
More:
You were spreading fatal diseases
among us the noble race,”
I whine feebly.
“How can we survive without your blood?
It’s our only food.
We mean it we say it we do it,”
So a bevy poses a rhetorical question
and answers it too.

“But you the noble racists
talk big and you philosophise:
‘Life is here, life is there
All life is equal
All life is one
All life is Brahman,’”
So pin-pricks another giggle.
“Still you butchered us shamelessly
for your little comforts,”
Rasps another group.

“You should suffer a thousand lives
for genocide…,”
Curses another throng.
“…and a thousand more for your hypocrisy,”
The huge population
in chorus bores into what I feel are my ears.
From my disembowelled heart and stomach
blood gushes forth into my splitting eye balls
and turns into tears;
evaporate the drops much before raining to the ground.
I go mad I am shattered
The prospect is horrendous:
“I’m yet to undergo
one thousand nine hundred and ninety nine terms
of torturous capital punishment,”
I wail helplessly.

“The more you decimate us
the more we’ll proliferate;
Our race could even outlive yours;
May your tribe learn this lesson!”
They gave out their deafening prophesy
in a deadening unison.
“Hahhaa…hahhaa Hahhaa…hahhaa,”
They have the last laugh in a soul shattering cacophony.